The Roman, the Taco, and the Wardrobe
by Alfred's Elevator
Summary: An unexpected sleep-over turns Arthur's world upside down as he and some guests are chased through a wardrobe into the magical land of "Something." Together with Roderich, Gilbert, Alfred, and more people encountered along the way, he will travel across Something to defeat the evil force controlling the land. T for France, language, and battles. HRExChibitalia. Many characters.
1. Chapter 1

I OWN NOTHING! All credit for characters goes to the creator of Hetalia and the basic plot to C.S. Lewis. This is a fan-made parody made for entertainment only.

"So, what is a wardrobe anyways?" Alfred asked offhandedly to the Brit who was currently hosting the young man before glancing distastefully at a suit of armor adorning the hallway. Arthur rolled his eyes before responding to the American.

"I thought you said you would look to see if you wanted it? Why would you look at something if you didn't even know what it is? I should retract the offer just because of that." As much as he sounded like it, Arthur needed to get rid of the thing. And if this dumb American would take it then he would give it to him gladly(On the inside of course. Outwardly he would act as if he was the one doing Alfred the favor). He continued walking down the hallway on the long red rug that covered the floor. Asides from looking like it came directly from a romantic book set in medieval times, the whole house was pleasant. Decorated with paintings, cleaned spectacularly, and with the occasional knight's armor placed about, it indeed looked like an old house that had survived at least a century. The stone flooring on the bottom floor and old wooden flooring on the second and third floor just added to the effect, as well as the torches that still lit the basement. Faded but beautiful wallpaper covered the upper floor's, as well as the ballroom's, walls and medieval-style weapons adorned them as well. The dark wooden doors on the side of him were well-polished and he thanked the maid silently for making the place look presentable for his guests. 'Eight, nine, ten' He thought to himself, coming to a stop in front of the tenth door on the left before realizing said guests were not behind him. He jumped when he heard the metallic clang from down the hall and immediately knew what had happened. Arthur turned to his side and started walking towards the duel whose clanging of repeated strikes still filled the hall. "Stop that at once! Alfred, Gilbert, I expected more of you! Waltzing into someone's home and taking down the centuries-old decor to fight with it, what are you thinking you idiots!? Not only are you using them without permission, but Alfred What the hell do you think you are doing? At least Gilbert seems to have some experience with a sword. You look like and idiot flailing it around like that." With that he reached the two, who had stopped their duel a second ago, and roughly took the sword from the blond.

"Jeese-Louise Iggy, we were just having fun. I prefer guns anyways. Take a chill-pill will ya?" The American immediately realized his mistake as the infuriated, and not to mention armed, Brit turned back to him.

"FOR THE LAST TIME DO NOT CALL ME BY THAT NAME! MY NAME IS ARTHUR AND IF YOU EVEN WANT TO LOOK AT THAT FUCKING WARDROBE, LET ALONE TAKE IT, YOU WILL NOT CAUSE ANY MORE TROUBLE! And anyways," He said, turning to Gilbert who looked slightly phased but didn't flinch. "Why are you here? I don't recall inviting you." The Prussian shrugged and muttered something along the lines of "Got bored and the beer ran out."

"Dude, you look ready to go stab some babies. I'll behave if it really matters that much. Besides, heros shouldn't piss-off the weak, we only protect them!" Alfred, of course.

"I am not weak. And we best hurry, I want you both out before that hail storm hits. Woe is me if you get trapped here for the night." He glared at the two of them before returning to the door, this time making sure both were behind him. "Now then..." he murmured before opening the door slowly and leading the two into the room. Compared to the rest of the house the room was bare. A single window lit it, winter sunlight filtered through clouds was streaming in from the back of the room illuminating the bare oak floor and dull green wallpaper. As the three filtered in they saw a large red-stained wooden wardrobe against the right wall. As they walked closer the two guests noticed intricate carvings all around the corners bordering the door and frame. It was truly a work of art and the smooth craftsmanship made the unicorns, fairies, dryads, and elfs weaved into one another as if they were all connected.

"Dude, it's like human centipede, they go together so well! Except less gross and more smoother, but they look connected!" It that's a better description for you.

"Yes, It's quite the work of art, now do you want it?" Arthur was getting impatient as he heard the first few thunks that signaled the start of the hail storm.

"I. d. k. What do you do with it?" Alfred asked, using the texting abbreviation as if he said it regularly.

"You put clothes in it you git, Look, there are bikinis and swim shorts already in there now." Arthur stepped forward and opened the door to the wardrobe, revealing a smug-looking Francis wearing one of the bikinis and striking a very...interesting pose.

"Arthur! I'm so glad you decided to join me! Come in now, there's enough room for two and their activities." The extremely creepy Frenchman cooed seductively before having the door slammed on him.

"Shit, one of you two go downstairs and ask the maid for the wardrobe key, the other help hold this shut. NOW!" The brit yelled, leaning with all his might to keep the now laughing perv in the wardrobe. Joined by America the two held the door shut while Gilbert raced down the hall and down two floors to the first level, quite literally running into one of the maids. Sprawled on top of her he stared into her eyes for just a second before pushing himself off with a hasty "Sorry." The lady got up off the floor using his extended hand and dusted herself off.

"It's all right, but may I ask why you were running? " The stunned maid replied

"I'm sorry Miss...Hungarian lady? But we need the key to the wardrobe RIGHT NOW or the lame American or Briton may get raped. I'm awesome though so my pal wouldn't touch me."

"My name is Elizabeta, and yes, I'm from Hungary. Now, who will rape who?"

"My buddy Francis'll rape Arthur and Alfred. My awesome self doesn't support rape though so we should hurry."

"Of course, Roderich has the key. Roderich!" She yelled into the kitchen she had just emerged from. A professional-looking man with glasses and dark hair emerged from the room looking frustrated and speaking with a strong Austrian accent.

"Ja, what do you want? Make it quick, I think I lit the turkey on fire somehow..."

"What? How do you light a turkey on fire? I know you've hardly ever cooked before, but what did you do? Take a match to it?" The outraged maid demanded while the Prussian laughed hysterically.

"No!" The Austrian answered a bit too quickly.

Elizabeta was at her wits end. "Just give me your keys and grab a fire hydrant! You pull the pin, aim, and squeeze the handle!" she yelled, Roderich blinked at her and began to pull his key ring from his belt as casually as if it nothing was burning in the kitchen or people's ability to say they've never been raped wasn't on the line. Finally he handed her the keys and started looking around for a fire extinguisher. After finding the right key she shoved it in the Prussian's hand and ran off to show the obviously untrained butler where the extinguisher was. Gilbert stared after her for a minute before remembering the urgency of the situation. He bolted upstairs to the room where he found the wardrobe lying on the floor face-down with the two others sitting on top of it ignoring the indignant complaints coming from within.

"Took you long enough! We had to put it on it's face to keep that frog inside!" Arthur said indignantly. "Now the wood will be scratched."

"So-rry," Gilbert grinned, voice soaked with sarcasm. "Here." He tossed the key to the brit and leaned against the doorframe. "What's up with the butler anyways? He is so un-awesome. He's burning down your kitchen down as we speak."

"Roderich? He crashed into me in front of a piano store. Apparently he was looking at the pianos and not the road and hit me head on, I was on the correct side of the road and he swerved when he saw a sale sign. Apparently he lacks insurance so I made a deal that if he served me for a time we wouldn't need to get lawyers and such involved. He agreed to act as an assistant to my maid until I can fully staff this place. Anyways, apparently he's a Nobel and doesn't know anything about cooking, cleaning, or the like. He and Elizabeta knew each other before she became my maid and came to live here, so they can get along well. I think they may have been together as some point by the way they act sometimes though. They know how to deal and work with each other perfectly but tolerate the other at most." The brit gave a resigned sigh. "At any rate, It looks like you two are spending the night." He said gesturing to the impressive baseball-size hail coming hard and fast outside the window, then knocking on the wood to get the still-whining Frenchman's attention. "That goes for you too, frog. I can keep you in there all night if I have to, so if you want me to make it more comfortable for you I suggest you stop that perverted nonsense." Arthur said.

"Ohonhonhon. You will make it more comfortable for me? And just how comfortable are we going to get Mon Cher?" Came the muffled reply.

"I mean it frog! I will feel absolutely no guilt for keeping you in here the whole night." The blond warned seriously, furrowing his insanely thick eyebrows.

A second's pause, then. "...Fine, you win. I will stop tempting the irresistible urges you have to make love with me...For tonight at least."

Hey guys! My (the author's) turn! Kudos to those who get the Seinfeld reference. I plan to make this kinda-sorta-maybe based on The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by that one guy...C. S. Lewis! Took me a second... Anyways I hope you can forgive spelling errors, my keyboard is sticky. I plan to put one or maybe two more characters in so yeah! The only foreseeable pairings that may come into effect is maybe Prussia and Hungary or her and Austria. And a very slight possibility of Italy and Holy Rome. But I suck at romance so I'll see how I feel in a few chapters. Oh, and one sided Francexpretty-much-everyone-he-comes-into-contact-with. we can all go on with our lives now and I can get some sleep. Good night dear readers, a thousand times goodnight! Should we part with a passionate...I'm gonna stop quoting Grell Sutcliffe now before I scare ya'all away. Ta-ta for now!

P.S. Check out the third party presidential debates! You can find them on Free&Equal's website. Just Google it, it's the first hit.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank You so much Fourth in Command Cixalea Jwan for the review and follow!

One thing that can be said about that night is that it was strange. After the wardrobe was flipped and everyone hurried to exit the room while Francis changed into some borrowed clothes from Arthur (and after he was beat over the head with a book for whining about how dull they were), the whole group gathered in the entrance hall to watch Alfred learn to fight with the medieval broadswords that were actually used for things (A.K.A. the ones not for decoration). He actually said "Hey, can I learn how to use those weapon-thingys on the walls? I'm reeeeally bored." But let's congratulate Arthur for figuring out what he wanted. Anyways, after Arthur agreed Francis piped up and said that he could help because he knew how to fight with them. After an hour instructing the American he was taking a break and Arthur had taken over. While he was the better swordsman by far, that also meant he was much stricter. Poor Alfred.

"Keep your knees bent you fool!" He yelled for the thousandth time that night. He was answered with a whining "Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"

"Well you did want to learn did you not? And he is teaching you." Francis piped up from the side of the room where he was flirting with a certain maid who pretended not to notice. Also there was the butler who watched the two and the Prussian who was chugging the beer Arthur had provided. "For goodness sake Alfred, keep your sword ready! A lapse in defence like that could lead to a fatal blow!" Just then a frenzied knocking came from the front door. As the American looked to the sound he received a hard smack to the torso with the blunt side of Arthur's sword. "Never lose focus." The Brit added to the physical scolding. "Who would be here at this time in the middle of a storm?" He asked, remembering the ten chimes that had rung out from his grandfather clock about fifteen minutes ago."I submit that we take a break?" He asked and received a nod. "All right Alfred," The Brit walked over to the door. "I think you're about ready to take on Gilbert." He finished, pulling open the large wooden doors. A gust of wind entered the hall along with several giant balls of hail. Shivering in the doorway was the young brown-haired Italian boy known as Feliciano Vargas. Dressed in a thin jacket and jeans he looked freezing cold and about to pass out. Holding his eye where a particularly large ball of hail had hit it upon opening the door, the Brit immediately stepped aside for the cold Italian to enter.

"Feliciano! What in the world are you doing out here alone in the storm? It's hailing like the dickens out there!"

"I-I, Lovino s-sent me out-t to g-get cheese. The s-storm started when I was in the store and your house is closer than ours. Can I stay here until the storm lets out please?"

..."Oh course you can stay here! He sent you out for cheese? Here."Arthur led Feliciano to the nearest chair. "Edelstein! Get him some tea or something." Roderich rolled his eyes.

"I-if you don't mi-mind," Feliciano sneezed. "I-I'd prefer coffee o-or cocoa." Arthur raised an eyebrow at the Austrian. The servant mumbled and left to go about his task. After returning with some hot chocolate he looked on, amused, at the two competitive men going at it with the broadswords. Gilbert ducked under a well-aimed swing by Alfred and returned one, aiming for the other's head. Alfred deflected the blow with a powerful counter attack that caused both to step back. Glaring, the two gritted their teeth and went in again, causing a startled Feliciano to jump when the blades collided with a resounding ring of metal on metal, followed by (slightly) softer and continual hits. After watching the two continue their intense battle France asked if the blades were sharp.

"Of course they are! What kind of respectable swordsman would I be if I didn't keep my weapons well-maintained and let them get dull?" The Brit demanded.

Feliciano looked startled. "What? They could really hurt each other! What if they cut each other's heads off?" The frightened Italian wailed.

"They know better. Besides, they are evenly matched enough that neither will sustain serious injury...Even so, I'm betting on Gilbert." Arthur finished after seeing said Prussian pull off a particularly tricky blocking move.

"Betting what? I'll match it for the American." Francis challenged.

Arthur studied him for a moment. "How about *30 pounds? About 33 1/2 Euros, I think. "

"Done."

"Kesesesese! You're in for it now!" Gilbert yelled, breathing heavily. "I have the master of the house counting on my awesomeness! I will defeat you!"

"No way! I'm a hero, and heroes never lose!" Alfred yelled, breathing equally as hard. With a grunt, Gilbert threw Alfred the strongest stroke yet. Grinning at the challenge, the American met his force with the next blow.

"Well done, now they officially won't stop until one is flat on his back." Elizabeta cemented. Both of the betting blonds shrugged and continued watching while the poor Italian jumped with each of the rapid blows.

"Oh, by the way, the coffee machine is on fire..." Roderich said with an offhand tone.

"What!? Are you a pyromaniac now? Stop playing with those damn matches!" Elizabeta yelled before racing towards the extinguisher for the second time that day.

Roderich watched her leave. "No, I'm not a pyromaniac, but it doesn't help that I don't know how to use those stupid things..." He muttered, unnoticed. With a sigh he went off to do who-knows-what and the others watched with growing anticipation as both duelers were starting to show signs of weakness. Gilbert deflected the strokes sloppily, while Alfred's attacks were even more focused on bursts of strength and became even less graceful than before. He saw what he thought was an opening, but responded to late. Falling forward, carried from his momentum, he stumbled and could do nothing to prevent the blade being pushed against his neck by the red-faced and sweaty Prussian.

"Kesesesesesese!" Gilbert panted heavily while laughing. "I, the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt, have won this duel." He announced.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Now we can stop fighting and go have paaaasta, right?" Feliciano cheered, then doubled his efforts when Arthur nodded. "Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssss sttttttttttttttaaaaaaaaaaa! He yelled all the way into the kitchen that the maid was still trying to put out. After smelling the smoke he returned to the group and said it could wait awhile. "Unless you want it really, really burnt, then I'll go make some!" He told them. "Lets play hide-and-go-seek!" He yelled to the others. They all agreed when they could think of nothing better to do (except Francis. Who, as always, was full of ideas regarding "better" things to do at the moment). After the two servants joined them(and the kitchen was completely put out) the game began.

* About 50 American Dollars according to my phone.

Burnt. I only use burnt instead of burned when I'm writing! Don't assume it's a habit because I speak more casually then I write (Unless I'm writing America in which the goal is to make him speak an informally as possible). Just thought I'd throw that out there to prove to my grammar-intense friend that she hasn't influenced me in proper grammar. Take that Grell!

Author's note: Woo! Another chapter come and gone. The phrase "so much time, so little to do" doesn't really apply to me considering I can have an hour to do something and get absolutely nothing done. I blame my ADD. But when you don't take medication for it all you can do is what you can. Yay, I'm getting over the very sad weekend I had by writing fan fiction. Who knew the cure for missing the state's biggest anime celebration would be writing fan-fics? Anyways, always use siblings as human shields, put fan fiction before homework (before sleep too, for that matter), and always remember Utah. I swear, everyone either forgets us or hates the state. Mormons aren't all we have, we have "The greatest snow on earth" too. (And the awesome Mormons, but it seems people prefer skiing to even us completely laid-back Mormons who DO support gay rights). At least if someone's pissed at the US us Utahns won't be the target. But seriously I swear we are like some mini Canada or something except Mr. Kumajirou is a cougar and we don't have a UN representative. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Ciao!


	3. Chapter 3

(Sorry, time jumps around a bit in this chapter...)

"1, 2, 3, NOT IT!" America yelled to the assembled people. Feliciano, who had used this method of choosing people before, immediately shouted "Not it!" Gilbert and Elizabeta caught on and almost instantly were followed by Arthur and Roderich. They all turned to Francis, who looked thoroughly confused.

"What he asked?"

"You're it!" cried the American. "Everyone run!" He yelled, dashing up the stairs to the second floor. The other seekees looked at each other and ran to hide while Francis covered his eyes and started counting.

"...48, 49, 50. Ready or not you've got the sexiest man alive after you!" He yelled into the empty entryway. Somewhere in the house Alfred was confused why Johnny Depp, two time winner of Time Magazine's Sexiest man alive award, was coming after him.

"...20, 21, 22..." Alfred pushed Gilbert behind him in the race up the third floor staircase. Both reached the landing and immediately sprinted down the hall together. Gilbert stopped at the seventh door on the right and opened it, revealing a bed, closet, large trunk and couch in the room. Looking around he closed the door behind him and opened the trunk. Empty. He got in and arranged himself until the lid closed. Meanwhile, Alfred ran down the hall and chose a door at random, opening it to find the room with the wardrobe. Seeing as by now his time was almost up he jumped into the wardrobe and closed the door behind him. He stood just behind it and looked out the small crack between the door and the frame.

"...28. 29, .30..." Arthur heard Francis' voice drifting up to the second floor. "...33, 34, 35..." Looking around he noticed the spare rooms lining the hallway to his left and the stairway to the third floor at the end of it. On his right he saw an almost identical hallway minus the stairs. He turned to the left and ran down three doors, entering the guest bedroom and hiding himself in the closet.

"...40. 41, 42..." Feliciano looked around at the kitchen he was in. Much of the wallpaper had been burnt off the wall and the oven seemed to have gotten the worst of it. The wooden cupboards above the stove had been stained by the smoke and the ones directly above the destroyed stove looked like the doors were about to fall off. Not thinking it over much Feliciano opened the oven and got right in. 'Hehe' he thought. 'I'm lasagna!' He heard someone enter the room and remained as quiet as possible so as not to be found.

Francis looked around, the entry hall was silent. 'Great, not only am I it, I'm really hot too...Wait a minute.' He thought, then carried out the solution that would only be obvious to Francis: Taking off all his clothes, or the clothes he borrowed from Arthur anyways. Laying them on the ground he continued seeking.

Behind the floor-length curtains in the kitchen Elizabeta could see both the doors at either end of the kitchen. She was right beside the one she had entered from the main floor's hallway and she could see out the tiny crack she had left in the door. She could also see the door that led to the entry hall. Peeking out the door next to her she saw Francis coming down the hall butt-naked. She slipped out from behind the curtains, knowing she needed to warn the others. Muttering "Francis is naked. Francis is naked." while finding a skillet to defend herself if necessary. Turning to walk across the room to the entryway door, she paused when she heard a voice from the oven.

"Miss Elizabeta? I think the point is to be quiet." She knew the speaker was Feliciano and she pulled opened the door to the oven.

"Hurry get out. Francis is running around naked and we need to warn the others, forget the game. Let's go." She told the confused Italian who followed her orders. Running to the door they escaped into the room and up the grand staircase to level two. Once there she called out to the others. "BREAK COVER, FRANCIS IS NAKED! EVERYONE RUN!" She ran down the hallway and was joined by Roderich who came out of the bathroom. Hearing Arthur swearing in one of the rooms followed by a thump and more profanity the group ran up the stairs to the third floor where the maid repeated the message before running directly to the wardrobe room. Still holding the skillet she opened the door to the wardrobe where Alfred stood very confused. After ushering Feliciano, Roderich, and Gilbert (Who had followed them into the room) she got in herself and closed the door. A few tense seconds passed in the overcrowded wardrobe before running footsteps were heard coming towards them. Upon hearing someone enter the room and dragging something they all condensed themselves together out of fear. a door closing and wood scraping wood. The door was forced open and Arthur stood there, red-faced from running and looking surprised at the popular hiding spot. He glance towards the door as Francis tried to push open the door he had propped a chair agenced.

"Shove over." He said while forcing himself into the wardrobe with the others. Now it was really packed and everyone was pressed together really tightly. They all listened intently to the pounding at the door before they all fell backwards onto the ground.

Loud cursing in German followed after a soft snapping sound.

"Shhhhhh, Roderich shut up." Gilbert commanded after rolling off the top of the Austrian.

"Something bit me!"

"No one cares." The Hungarian surprised everyone with her harsh words. After they all had gotten up off the now-sandy ground Roderich pulled a mousetrap off his fingers looking solemn.

"Why was there a mousetrap in your wardrobe?" He asked. Arthur shrugged and told him the old owners must have put it there.

"Woa! Dig the forest-jungle-beach-thing!" Alfred exclaimed after looking around the forest of palm trees and sandy ground.

"Where are we?" Feliciano asked. And everyone realized what had happened; Francis had chased them through a wardrobe and into a different world.

Author's note: Yay! Two chapters in one day/night! Up 'till midnight for the second time in a row, I hope it's worth it. Anyways, If you can't tell this is an absol-utly random piece of art. Or crap, whatever floats your boat. I feel ashamed of making poor Austria kinda appliance-challenged, but he will get more recognition for his awesomeness (Why is it when I hear the word "awesome" or any variant I think of Prussia?).And you don't know how many times I had to fix "France" to "Francis" and I almost typed Austria about ten-million times. I had trouble with Prussia and Britain too. I guess I'm just used to calling America "Alfred" though. Kay, enough of my randomness, it's time for me to catch some z's.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note, I'll make it quick. I'm sooo sooooooooo sorry this is taking forever, I lose inspiration so fast. I won't promise anything, but I kinda know where to go from here so I may update faster. I promise, as long as it may take to complete, that this will get finished eventually. I'm a quitter in almost everything everything, but fanfiction is just that important. This chapter is a bit forced :(

"I have absolutely no clue where we are." Arthur told the group that had looked to him for answers.

**"**If that's the case we should go back."Roderich warned.

Alfred scoffed. "Dude, no way! We just went through a warlock and into a forest-beach-thingy! Let's go check it out."

Arthur looked unimpressed. "Hold it Alfred. First of all it's "wardrobe." Second, we don't have any weapons-"

"Got it covered." Elizabeta piped up, brandishing her skillet.

Arthur sighed. "Yes, but we don't have any clue where we are. We were chased in here by Francis, a sure sign of trouble. If you'll all listen to reason-"

"Screw reason**,** I'm awesome**.** I can't die. I'm INVINCIBLE!... FOR BURGERS**!**!" Alfred charged off into the forest of palm trees, slipping slightly on the sandy ground and chanting "U.S.A. U.S.A."**  
**"Wait!" Arthur yelled, basically speaking to air. The group had no choice but to trudge after the spry American, Roderich somewhat reluctantly. Gilbert lagged at the back of the group with Feliciano, grinning. **  
**"Hey, Feliciano. Want a smoke?" He asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handing one to the young Italian.  
He stared at it. "Is it candy?"Feliciano asked.**  
**"Sure is, kid. Whatever floats your boat." Gilbert smiled. "Hey, Roderich, got a lighter?" The Austrian fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out ten of the things.

He then tossed one to Gilbert with a stern "I want that back."

Gilbert waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. Sure thing Dopezart."

Roderich glared. "That's just plain rude, he was a great musician. And if that's the cleverest thing you can come up with, than I'll bet he composed ten times as many musical masterpieces than your I.Q. score. And seriously, have you never lit a lighter before?" The Austrian rolled his eyes at the Prussian's repeated attempts to strike the lighter. The aristocrat took it back and showed the albino the proper way, lighting it with the first try. He pushed the lighter back into Gilbert's hand and joined Arthur at the head of the group, discussing culture or something boring that the Prussian didn't care about. So, instead of eavesdropping, he lit both his and Feliciano's cigarettes. Feliciano (dear, sweet, clueless, Feliciano) stuck it in his mouth the wrong way, biting the lit end off. Prussia, who had started chatting with an unapproving-of-smoking-Elizabeta, was none the wiser to the poor Italian's epic fail. And, seeing as the others were unaware of the Prussian's generosity (read: horrible decision to give Feliciano a cigarette), Feliciano received no help until he started coughing and puking on the ground. As the group turned to see what was wrong, Gilbert hurriedly said he'd better find Alfred and dashed into the woods in the vague direction the American had been heading.

Gilbert jumped over a log, looking for Alfred. "Yo, not-as-awesome-as-me-dude! Where are you?" The Prussian made his way through the forest of tropical trees onto a beach that was as empty and depressing as Russia. A lone man stood on the grey sand, staring out to the sea with his back to Gilbert. He was medium height and wore a black cape around his shoulders. The hat he wore concealed most of the blond, brushed-back hair he had. As GIlbert approached, boots crunching on the sand, the figure turned.

The man had deep blue eyes that bore into Gilbert as he drew nearer. The Prussian noticed the figure's hand rested on a sword at his waist that had been concealed by the cape.

The figure studied Gilbert "Who are you? I command you to stop." he commanded, fingering the hilt of his weapon.

"Whoa, dude. Not awesome. My name's Gilbert, I have friends here. Who are you?" The Prussian grinned.

The blonde studied Gilbert. "My name is Louis." he said solemnly.

The two stayed in an awkward silence until loud, rapid footsteps sounded behind them. They both turned and froze, watching the American running towards them, followed by a pissed ninja. Louis, immediately registering what he saw, drew his sword, facing the ninja.

"Gather your companions, I'll find you in a while. Go now." He commanded. The ninja pulled out a nerf gun and called some unintelligible war cry, still racing full speed but now aiming for Louis

The gaze that Louis gave them was enough to get both the Prussian and the American going. They ran, looking for the others as they went.

After a few minutes they saw Roderich and Elizabeta deeper in the forest ahead, also running from a group of ninjas. "Alfred, what gives!? Why are there ninjas?" Gilbert demanded as the two altered course to follow their companions.

"I don't know, mine attacked me after I started yelling for you guys... I was afraid you were lost." The American ducked under a low-hanging palm leaf and kept running alongside his friend.

"Duh we're lost. All of us are, we have no clue where-" Gilbert, in his rush to give the American an exasperated look, had run into a flagpole holding a snow-white flag. "Shit! What the hell is a flag doing here?"

"Hahaha!" Alfred laughed, pointing at Gilbert until:

BOOM**  
**Both people were blown off their feet by the shockwave of a huge explosion about 50 feet away. The fireball had lit several trees on fire and the shockwave carried farther into the forest. The two scrambled up and looked at the source of the explosion, straining their eyes through the remaining smoke. Black ribbons fluttered to the ground around them, and both were unable to tell if it was fabric or ashes. Alfred and Gilbert made out a group of figures behind a huge crater that were getting up slowly dusting themselves off. Then Elizabeta's voice was raised loud enough to penetrate the ringing in both of their ears..**  
**"Those bushes were flammable, Roderich! You could've killed us all! God, you're such an idiot-"

The Austrian frowned. "It's not my fault!"

The hungarian wouldn't hear of it. "Yeah, of course not. It never is! In all honesty I'm surprised to have escaped your house alive! And furthermore- Oh, now look what you've done." Elizabeta gestured behind the Austrian. Feliciano was crying, scared of the huge explosion, and the other's were all looking a bit dizzy as they regained their feet. The Hungarian moved to comfort the Italian while Alfred and Gilbert rejoined their soot-covered friends, asking what had happened.

Arthur started to answer when the whole group spun around at the sound of approaching footsteps. They saw Louis walking toward them and immediately Arthur and Elizabeta readied themselves to fight.

"Who are you?" Arthur called, having not seen him before.

Gilbert laid a hand on Elizabeta's raised frying pan. "He's awesome. Alfred pissed off a ninja and he saved us. Where did the group of ninjas that were chasing you go?" He asked.

Arthur gestured at the still-smoking crater and Gilbert looked into it. The bottom was littered with...pieces. The Prussian, instead of looking more closely at the damage, turned and smiled at the approaching blonde man. But Louis ignored him, staring instead at Feliciano with squinting eyes. The Italian had stopped sobbing upon the sight of the new arrival. After a moment or two he gave a squeal and stumbled to his feet, rushing towards the blonde.

Louis caught the crying blur of Italian that was screaming his name, and stumbled with the force behind it.

"Fe-Feli?" When the Italian nodded Louis hugged the again-crying Feliciano, burying his face in the Italian's neck and clinging to the fabric behind the Italian's back. "I've missed you so."

"Ve~ I've missed you too." Feliciano cried, sobbing into Louis' shirt. As touching as it was, the happy reunion brought nothing but confusion to the rest.

"Um. Who is this?" Elizabeta asked once the two had pulled apart. Feliciano smiled, holding onto Louis' hand like his life depended on it.

"We were childhood friends, and we were very, very close. Years ago I was called here to Something and I had to leave. I told her to wait for me, but it appears she's found me." Louis explained

"...She?" Arthur gave Louis a blank look, soon getting it returned by Louis. Feliciano strained his neck slightly to whisper into Louis' ear. The blonde blinked and looked at the Italian, blushing.

"All this time? Oh, I'm so sorry Feliciano. I feel so horrible." Louis glanced away, too embarrassed to look the Italian in the eyes.

"Ve~ I never minded, Don't apologise. It, it doesn't change anything does it?"

"No, of course not." Louis smiled at his friend, still embarrassed. Then he stood up straight and looked at Arthur, who he had figured had the most authority. "Now, I hate to rush anyone, but we need to get moving. The ninjas will soon be after us. Follow me." The Brit thought for a moment before nodding and following Louis as he led them through the forest of palms. The others were close behind and all were alert in case of another ninja attack.

Author's note 2: Yeah, I brought Holy Roman Empire in. Hope you readers liked it, review if you can.


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